


Whistling a tune

by Silvermoonphantom (Daitoshi)



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Culture, Gen, soundbending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-06
Updated: 2012-11-06
Packaged: 2017-11-18 03:03:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/556166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daitoshi/pseuds/Silvermoonphantom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Yangchen” is a common female Tibetan name meaning “melodious one (literally: melody-with)” but it is used as the Tibetan translation of Hindu goddess Sarasvati, who is recognized as the devi of learning and music (i.e. the arts).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whistling a tune

~During Long flight on Appa, across the ocean~

~For some reason, Zuko is there, too.~

  
Sokka was polishing his boomerang, became bored, and started tapping on the bone weapon with his fingernail, alternating on the thick and the angle of the sharpened edge. Gazing out on the water, he started using both hands, looking down at his fingers with a bit of interest, before peetering out into a simple beat with one knuckle and looking back out into the distance.  
Zuko wanted to get the boy to stop distrusting him, since Katara and Aang had accepted him wholeheartidly, while Sokka had continued to look at him suspiciously.  
“What is that from?”  
Sokka visibly started, head whipping around to the mask now staring directly at him.  
“That rythim. What song is it from.”  
He scratched the back of his head, tilting it to the side.  
“I dunno, I made it up?”  
“Do you play an instrument?”  
“Er… no?  
Katara cut in  
“He always refused to help in the story-dances, but he can play a drum.”  
Sokka lifted an eyebrow.  
“Do you play an instrument?”  
There was a long pause, and the mask turned to the ocean, seeming disinterested.  
Sokka’s mouth fell into a sharp line and he also turned away, only to turn back when he detected a hesitant rasp.  
“I used to play the Tsungi horn.”  
“Oh, what’s that?”  
Zuko felt a sharp twinge of irritation, before he forced it back down with a sigh. The boy was probably not insulting him, and genuinely had no idea.  
“It’s a Fire Nation instrument, with two thin strips of metal inside. They vibrate with the breath of the player, sounding a bit like a reed instrument, except…” he waved one gloved hand, gesturing in an attempt to find the right word.  
“Richer?”  
Sokka stared at him.  
“What’s a reed instrument?”  
Zuko’s head fell back to lean on the edge of the sky bison’s saddle, biting back a groan of exasperation.  
“Hey! I didn’t laugh at you when you started asking weird questions about seasons.”  
He rolled his head back upright, exaggerating the movement of his sigh. Aang leaned back, happy to cut in and inform his friend about different musical tools.  
“A reed instrument is like a long tube.” He gestured with his hands, eyes distant with imagining.  
“Like hollowed-out spear, about the length of your forearm, with holes along the top, and a mouthpiece to blow air into. Woodwinds, you just blow into, and your breath creates sound when it pushes through the holes. Reeds are similar, but also have a sliver of Bamboo in the inside, that vibrates.” He wiggled his finger.  
The blue and white mask nodded, the rasping voice cutting in again.  
“The Tsungi horn mimics that vibration. With metal. It makes an interesting sound.”  
“Hey Aang, how come you know so much about music?”  
“Music was actually a fairly good part of life at the temples. Definitely a spiritual part. Something about vibrations… Ummmm”  
Katara interjected “You don’t have to explain if you don’t want.”  
Aang waved his hands quickly, denying the implication  
“I want to tell you guys, but it’s hard to describe! Like… How do you guys calm spirits and stuff?”  
The two water tribe teens stared at him blankly. The young monk made small loops with his hand, as if trying to draw a story out of the air itself. With none forthcoming, he looked to Blue, silently pleading with his eyes.   
“Fire Nation honors their dead by cremating the body, and keeps a fire burning in the capitol to guide spirits to a safe resting place.”  
That seemed to draw Katara out of her confused state.  
“Cremation? How would that help anything? Everyone knows you give the dead to the ocean… unless they scattered the ashes there, or something weird like that.”  
She caught a glint of gold behind that mask, and scowled, having momentarily forgotten what their companion was. Turning away with a huff, muttering.  
“Not like Fire Nation can do anything right”  
“Er.. Katara? I’m pretty sure the different people have different customs, when it comes to the dead. Benders, especially are picky how their bodies are taken care of.”  
Katara shot him a look, not happy about being told she was wrong  
There was an awkward silence, and Aang fidgeted, not entirely comfortable being on the wrong end of his female friend’s temper.

  
—  
  
At one point, they stop on the shore, and Aang finds a Conche.  He looks into it, shoving his finger in the hole and wiggling it around. Holding it up by the thick end, he aims carefully and quickly shoots a blade of wind that took the tip of it clean off.  The Monks weren’t violent, but they were quite adept at using their bending as a tool.  
“I wonder what he’s doing out there?”  
“Who knows. I’m just glad Blue’s around to help get some food. At least SOMEONE knows the importance of trapping.”  
“Aang! What are you doing?”  
He turns back, waving at Katara  
“You’ll see!”  
  
He takes a deep breath and blows into the end, his eyes bugging out and he rips it off his mouth, sputtering.  
He eyes the end.  
“Oh, that’s what I’m forgetting.”  
He sits down and places it between his knees, forming a small tornado in his hand. Using both hands, he bears down on the little whirlwind, forcing it to spin faster and harder, condensing into a tiny spiral.  
WIth a grinding sound, the wind begins to cut into the shell, gutting the opening created by his earlier wind slice.  
With a small puff of air into the end, he jumps back up and does a little twirl, running over to their campfire.  
“check this out!” He gleefully announced, and handed it to sokka.  
“Okay, take a deep breath and blow into this, for as long as possible!”  
At first, only a slight hiss came out, but then it uttered a wavering note. Sokka yelped and dropped it in surprise, catching it just before it hit the ground.  
Aang just grinned like a maniac.  
Sokka laughed a bit, then took a deep breath and blew into it again, the sound coming out richer and louder than before. He experimented with his breath, making it softer and louder, piping out in small bursts.  
“This is really cool!”


End file.
